The Last Games
by CalmlyChaotic
Summary: My name is Cassandra. I am going into the arena. And I am sure as hell coming back out. M for violence. Contains Mockingjay spoilers.
1. Chapter 1

**!Warning! MOCKINGJAY SPOILERS**

**AN: So I am sitting on my couch, drinking chocolate milk and watching American Idol and I decided I want to publish something new. So I took out my laptop and looked for a certain something I wrote weeks ago. I know that this story has been done a million times, but that's not going to scare me off. This little bit is just an intro, to see how people feel about it. **

**Disclaimer: If I owned THG, there is NO WAY Finnick Odair would be dead.**

Shocked. No, that's not strong enough a word. Blindsided. Yes, blindsided is what I am. I feel as if I've been hit by one of the trains that are always zooming around the city.

They just anounced another Hunger Games.

When the rebels took over I had assumed that all the bloodshed and unnecessary carnage would be finished. Silly me. I should have known that since we are human, someone would come up with a cruel way to take revenge. But I don't think anybody would imagine _this._ Weren't the Games the exact reason Panem had risen up and rebelled? Wasn't the point of all this death and war that there would never be any more? Apparently not.

After school the new officials called a mandatory meeting in the square in front of the mansion for all citizens of the Capitol. Everyone thought it was so they could announce who the new president would be. Instead they told us that in retribution for all the years that the Districts lost their children to the Hunger Games, we would lose ours. The names of gamemaker's children aged 12 to 18 will be placed in a glass ball in a little under 4 months. My name will be written on a small slip of paper among them.

I walk home stiffly, my motions robotic, as I try to come to terms with this fact. In my 17 years, I have never dealt with the terror of a Reaping. Why would I? I am a citizen of the Capitol. I have watched the Hunger Games every summer. Disgusted, but safe in the knowledge that it would never happen to me. Now everything was different. And I don't know how I am going stay standing through the whole thing.

**AN: Review and let me know what you think. I WILL continue with the story no matter how many reviews I get, but more will get Chapter 1 up sooner. Hint, Hint. **

**Also, to anyone who was reading Something Wicked and was wondering if I died or something, I AM SO SORRY! It's been...too many months to count. I have no idea what I'm doing that story and so at the moment I'm not going to update it but I won't take it down. I'll let you know when I decide. **

**Review! Those things make the world go 'round. **


	2. Chapter 1: The Anouncement

**AN: Thank you to my wonderful reviewers EmeraldGleek and 0912. Just so you guys know, I don't bite. And as EmeraldGleek will tell you, I personally reply to each and every review. So If you have any questions or anything you want to tell me, that would be the place.**

**So far, I've only written the first few chapters of this. Thus, I am open to any and all suggestions you may have. **

**Disclaimer: (Unfortunately) I don't own THG. If I did, I would be significantly less broke than I am.**

* * *

Shocked. No, that's not strong enough a word. Blindsided. Yes, blindsided is what I am. I feel as if I've been hit by one of the trains that are always zooming around the city.

They just anounced another Hunger Games.

When the rebels took over I had assumed that all the bloodshed and unnecessary carnage would be finished. Silly me. I should have known that since we're human, someone would come up with a cruel way to take revenge. But I don't think anybody would imagine _this._ Weren't the Games the exact reason Panem had risen up and rebelled? Wasn't the point of all this death and war that there would never be any more? Apparently not.

After school the new officials called a mandatory meeting in the square in front of the mansion for all citizens of the Capitol. Everyone thought it was so they could announce who the new president would be. Instead they told us that in retribution for all the years that the Districts lost their children to the Hunger Games, we would lose ours. The names of gamemaker's children aged 12 to 18 will be placed in a glass ball in a little under 4 months. My name will be written on a small slip of paper among them.

I walk home stiffly, my motions robotic, as I try to come to terms with this fact. In my 17 years, I have never dealt with the terror of a Reaping. Why would I? I am a citizen of the Capitol. I have watched the Hunger Games every summer. Disgusted, but safe in the knowledge that it would never happen to me. Now everything is different. And I don't know how I am going stay standing through the whole thing.

* * *

Pacing. Up and down my bedroom, which is a considerable size. I can't stop the constant flow of images racing through my mind. Incredibly gruesome pictures and memories from past Hunger Games. Thinking that in a few short months, the same bloody end may befall me.

There is a knock at the door. "Cassie? Are you in there?"

"Come in," I mutter distractedly. She can't have heard me, but my mother pushes the door open anyway. She takes one look at my panic-stricken face and immediately folds me into her arms and starts stroking my long, blonde curls.

My mother and I look very similiar. We both have the same petite frame, the same curly blonde hair and the same dark green eyes. But that is where the similairities end. My mother is kind and gentle and knows how to calm people down. I am not mean-spirited but I am stubborn.

"You don't know that they'll pick you. It is entirely random." She says in that soothing voice of hers. I shake my head, disgusted with myself and how completely I've broken down.

"They'll find a way. They'll make it happen." I say hoarsely. Somehow, I doubt they will allow the grandaughter of President Snow to escape.

**AN: Jet lag and painkillers do wonderful things for one's writing, no? Super short...purely because I wanted that little bombshell to be the very end. But I promise chapter two will be way longer. You'll also see some more familiar faces in the next few chapters. **

**Tell me what you think! **


	3. Chapter 2: The Visitor

**AN: So, now would probably be a good time to apoligize. Not only has it been over a month since I've updated, but this is also probably riddled with spelling errors. I beg your forgiveness. I'm just using Wordpad at the moment, so there's no spellcheck, and there are only so many times one can proofread. If you spot any mistakes, please point them out. Anyway, hope you like this new chapter.**

**Disclaimer: Blah Blah Blah, I don't own the Hunger Games. I'm sure you've heard it all before.  
**

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I am sitting on a window seat in the parlor, reading a novel. Or at least, I am going through the motions of reading. My eyes move from side to side, and my fingers turn the pages, but not a single word really enters my brain. It's been a week since my meltdown, but nothing has changed. I'm still in panic mode. I've just gotten better at hiding it.

There is a soft knock and I see Thomas, our butler, standing in the doorway. I raise my eyebrows and he clears his throat.

"You have a visitor, Miss Snow," He says. He shoots me a look that clearly says _Good Luck _and_ I don't envy you right now_. I have known Thomas my entire life, and if he is looking at me like that nothing good can be coming.

Just then, my visitor enters the room. She has long dark hair, grey eyes and an intense look on her face. Her presence does not help my state of mind. Thomas glances between the two of us and quickly takes his leave.

Katniss runs her eyes over me, sizing me up. I feel like those eyes can see right through me, to my soul. To tell the truth, I am not fond of the feeling. I also get the impression that she does not think much of me.

"I came to discuss the Hunger Games." She says flatly. Doesn't beat around the bush, this one.

"Well, obviously." I roll my eyes. I didn't expect her to be dropping in for tea. Katniss raises her eyebrows, but sinks into the chair I gesture to across from mine. I notice with a hint of amusement that the silk of the chair matches her blue blouse exactly. "Anything specific you want to share?" I ask in as innocent a tone as I can manage.

"Yes. I want to tell you that you need to be prepared. If you've got half a brain cell, you've figured out that you are going into the Arena."

Well, I'm pretty sure I have more than half a brain cell. Possibly even two or three.

"Yeah, I know." I sigh. There is a long pause as we are both lost in our own thoughts. Finally, I break the silence. And I am no longer calm.

"How did this happen?" I demand. "How did everything become so twisted?" I direct the questions at the world, but of course they go unanswered. Until Katniss speaks.

" I couldn't tell you. But I can say that people are bloodthirsty. This whole thing was put together because the Districts were calling for the death of _every _Capitol citizen."

"And who decided on this little solution?" I am outraged. Why couldn't those people have just been told "no"?

"It was put to a vote. Now it's happening and we have to deal with it. Let's get back to the reason I'm here: You have to beat them." I open my mouth to ask another question, but she raises a hand to stop me. "You have to win. Not just in the Arena... but the entire Games."

It takes me a few seconds to fully understand what she means. Katniss is talking about the Games they are playing with us. It used to be the Capitol versus the Districts. Now it is the same, only without geographical boundaries. The Powerful versus the Helpless.

Katniss stands to go. I automatically rise too. With both of us standing, I can tell that she is still taller than me by about three inches. "Good luck, Cassandra Snow." She crosses the room swiftly and is nearly at the door when I find my voice.

"One more question." She nearly flinches at the hostillity in my voice but pauses and turns to look at me. "Did you vote for this? Did you vote for another Hunger Games?"

Her eyes flick to the floor, then back up to look me in the eyes.

"Yes." Then she is gone.

I could see the regret, the guilt, the pain etched on her face and hear it in her voice.

But I will not forgive her.

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**Alright, so it was short, but tell me what you think anyway. Virtual cookies to all who review!  
**

**PS remember when I said we would see some familiar faces? this is just the beginning.  
**


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